


Cherry Kisses

by HieiandKuramaLover



Category: Vassalord
Genre: Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HieiandKuramaLover/pseuds/HieiandKuramaLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one thing Johnny can never seem to get from Charles. re-uploaded and re-vamped to celebrate the release of the OVA!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Forewarning, this is a sad one-sided look at Charles/Rayflo from Rayflo's perspective. It's kinda angsty, there's implied sex and a lot of pining.

We had had sex.  
  
It happens every now and again, it’s unavoidable with creatures like us. As much as dear Cherry wants to deny what he is and all those cravings that build up in that beautiful body, he knows he’ll succumb eventually. Sex is like blood. We both hunger for it and, if we’ve gone without it for too long, we’ll dive into whatever the first willing thing is.  
  
I’m always waiting around for Cherry to take the plunge.  
  
It’s usually on the night of the new moon. A rather unknown part of vampire lore: vampires are out and about more on the night of the new moon. It makes scientific sense as well when one really things about it. Moonlight is nothing more than reflected sunlight from the other part of the Earth where it’s daytime. Older vampires have long grown past their distaste for this trace amount of sunlight, but the complete darkness, without any hindrance, is as intoxicating as the blood we drink.  
  
That is the night we have sex.  
  
There is a reason I’m referring to it so blatantly. There’s hardly any emotion in what we do. He comes, has his way, and wanders off again to wherever he is called. The only comfort I have while he’s gone is the knowledge that he will come back. He’ll always come back.

 I can live with this. Getting to be with him once a month is better than never. I’m patient enough for the most part, but there’s one thing that keeps bringing me some heartache.  
  
We have sex. We fuck each other mercilessly, just as the song asks.  
  
We never kiss.  
  
I would kill a city of virgins for that kiss if I knew he would give it. He never even gets close enough for me to get a good whiff of his hair or his skin. Even now as I think about it, lying in bed on the night of the new moon, it makes me nothing but sad. What is so wrong with wanting to be with me? If the church causes him this much anguish over his feelings for me he should just leave it! I’m so tired of the Vatican ripping him away from me time after time and even when I do get to be with him, afterward it's like he's ashamed of me.

 Then again, _I'd_ be ashamed of me...at least a little. And I'm a narcissist.  
  
I look out the window expectantly, blowing out smoke. All of the buzz, none of the cancer. He’ll be here soon. That still, calm, almost robotic voice. The feel of his fine hair under my fingers. All the sensations of Cherry that I love so much will soon walk right through my door. His usually restrained eyes will hold in them a silent but quaking hunger, though not for blood.  
  
“Charles,” I whisper aloud, his name pouring a pain into my chest. I want him to want me, me and me alone. I wanted him to abandon the church, toss his priesthood to the side of some dirt road, then take my hand and run off with me. My thoughts sound like the plot of some tawdry romance novel from the airport terminal. The beautiful hedonist seducing the pure priest into a life of sin.  
  
“You’re actually awake this time?”  
  
I look up at the doorway and there he is. The only light to see him by coming from a small scented candle I left lit on my nightstand. Nights like these I prefer scant light. I'd have it completely dark if not for my desire to be able to walk about without tripping. Besides, having only the one little light makes beautiful shadows across Cherry’s face and body. In fact, I soon find that I'm staring.

 

Oh, Cherry you are too beautiful to be stuck in a life that demands celibacy! Cast off the colors of the church and fall, angel! Fall into my arms. I will catch you, catch you and never let you go! Even with all those romantic thoughts, all my feelings for him, all I can do when he walks in the door is smirk as I snub out my cigarette.  
  
“You know I always wait up for you, Cherry,” I say casually, sitting up on the mattress. He shuts the door after him. There’s no one in the house but you and me, my dear. Who do you think you’ll be able to hide from by merely shutting the door?  
  
“It’s Charles,” he says sternly, always insistent on that one. I smile at him, knowing full well why he’s here as I’m sure he does as well. After all, he is making his way to my bed isn’t he? How to you end up here, Cherry, if you are so devout? You are a creature of the night, a blood drinking fiend at heart. Why punish yourself? Come and follow me. I can truly set you free.  
  
I must be making a strange face. One of his chilled hands reaches out to stroke my cheek. As if on a reflex, I react by nuzzling my hand against his palm. His hands are so cold, so terribly cold. Let me warm them for you, Cherry.  
  
I gently take that hand in both of mine, kissing each finger tip starting with the index finger, working my way down to the pinky and then the thumb, kissing my way to his wrist. It is there that I can feel his pulse the strongest, hear all that blood coursing through his veins. I can feel him growing aroused; feel the desire running rampant under his skin. It is like a bitter symphony that I can’t ever get enough of. I want so much more than one night’s quick fuck for us Charles.  
  
Charles.  
  
That’s when he knows I’m serious. When I use his real name. That is when it is clear even to him that I mean every word I'm saying. Can you read my thoughts, Charles? I want you, desperately. I want you, mind, body, and soul. I want you to want me. Well, I _know_ you want me, but I want you to admit it. I want you to _need_ me...the way I need you.  
  
Again, I must be making a face. His other cold hand latches to my shoulder ever so gently. My lips still on his wrist, I look up at him, making eye contact and almost shivering at the stare he’s giving me. It’s so intent, so single minded that it makes me hunger for him even more. In another, however, it makes me want to cry. I see no emotions. None. None of the desperation, none of the heart-wrenching love I hold in my own heart. My eyes lower, knowing that this will not be the night I get my kiss. Conceding to the practiced to perfection ritual of our new moon, I allow the cloth to be removed from my body.  
  
We fuck.  
  
It’s relatively rough but satisfying. Despite the gratuity of it, though, there is still so much missing. He kisses me everywhere…everywhere but my lips. To do so would be admitting why he’s really there, in my house and in my bed. He’ll return to his duties to the church in the morning with his tail tucked between his legs, begging for forgiveness just like he always does. I’ll be left behind to wait for the next new moon or for him to get hungry.  
  
“You leaving so soon?” I chuckle “I feel like a cheap escort,” I say with a small pout. He makes a small grunt in acknowledgment. I turn away from him and make a dissatisfied face. “You’re so cruel, Cherry,” I say with a sigh.

 He won’t take me seriously if I say his nickname. I do this because...because I don’t want him to know. He needs to come to me of his own accord, not because he feels guilty. In a few seconds he’s out the door and I won’t see him again till he’s hungry. I sigh, lighting another cigarette and blowing out the first whiff of smoke. I’ll wait. I'll be patient. I’ll bide my time.  
  
“You’ll come back Charles.”  
  
For one reason or another, I know you’ll come back.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. when Johnny says "As the song asks", he's referring to the song "Hate Fuck" by The Bravery. :) Good song, go find it.


End file.
